


Old Hearts

by missditsydarcy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: "I didn't know I was pregnant" spoof sorta, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childbirth, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mpreg, SOFT GAYS, basically all the characters are mentioned and not present other than keith shiro, i love them, implied allurance, labor, nipple stimulation sorta, they are so SO fricking soft guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 08:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24467797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missditsydarcy/pseuds/missditsydarcy
Summary: “N-no, Shiro, don’t you see? I can’t do this. I didn’t even know the baby existed and now…what if something’s wrong? It’ll be all my fault! They should just stay in there where they will be safe…I…I’m so sorry, Shiro, I let you down…”Keith’s voice is surprisingly soft, wet and clearly pained in a way that would be difficult for just anyone to pick up enough pieces to finish the job—Shiro lets out a hot, pained breath, eyes squeezing shut to ward off the moisture that threatens to decimate his resolve. He has to physically remind himself to not squeeze his hands that are quite literally still holding the baby upright while the rest of them is yet to be delivered.Luckily, Shiro isn’t just anybody.“Keith…no matter what…you know me. You know…us. I’m never going to give up on you, and you won’t give up on me—and this…this baby? They’re both you and me; and the Keith I know…and love…wouldn’t give up on them, either. Now would he?”“I’m so scared, Shiro,” comes Keith’s voice in a soft way that Takashi has ever heard and will never forget. It doesn’t sound like him at all, and that’s how Shiro knows that it’s real, and it’s a feeling that he knows well.
Relationships: Allura & Lance (Voltron), Allura/Lance (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 100





	Old Hearts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Val_Creative](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/gifts).



> Tada! I have arrived with a trip-and-a-half for y'all if you're interested lolol.   
> This was a prompt sent to me by a friend on tumblr who wanted a sheith mpreg prompt where they...had no idea Keith was even pregnant, and so that's where all this craziness came from. :'D I was heavily inspired in this fic in particular by the TLC show "I didn't know I was Pregnant" which has stories that end up much like this one does, for real, apparently.   
> Anyways, I had a lot of fun writing it, and hope that you all enjoy it!! <3

If anyone says that Keith is a bit of a baby when he gets sick, Keith will always say the same thing—it’s because he doesn’t get sick, like, ever.

In the last couple of years, he has attributed it to his Galra genes, thinking that perhaps his thick skin and maybe, even by mere determination alone that the germs would have just cowered away at the first sight of Keith or anyone whom he has his mind set on protecting.

So…it makes sense that he was a little more than perturbed when strange symptoms arose seemingly out of nowhere.

It started right after Lance and Allura’s wedding—his stomach seemed oddly sensitive to the concept of food, and for some reason he couldn’t stand the smell of their laundry detergent, cooked eggs of any kind, and even the smell of coffee eventually turned the former Paladin off.

He wasn’t actually throwing anything up, though, so he simply decided that it has to do with the climate change his body endured after the big move from his space mission with the Blades, having found a formidable replacement for himself that his mother had generously vowed to train correctly in Keith’s absence while he and Shiro settled into their new lives together.

The couple had begun to plant roots in Keith’s childhood home, seeing firsthand how Shiro needed a calmer lifestyle in more than a psychological way—knowing that, labels aside, that they wanted to spend their lives together anyhow, so, why wait? Of course, seeing as though all of Keith’s memories of the place weren’t all sunshine and rainbows, and blessedly because the house needed some serious TLC—they had decided to renovate it together as well.

So, yeah, renovating a house is no small task—it only makes sense that Keith would feel a little rundown, right? Asleep nearly every night as soon as his head had hit the pillow, or maybe even if he’s sitting still long enough at their kitchen island, and deep in thought.

He didn’t mention any of this to Shiro, but not because he didn’t trust him; mostly because he didn’t want to bother him with something that could turn into nothing and thus Shiro worried himself without purpose. He did mention something to Pidge, though, a couple of times—who essentially recommended a full-body scan with one of her latest mechanical toys. (Which he absolutely said no to, for the record.)

But…suddenly he felt better than he’d ever felt in his life! Well, except for the little tingles that appeared out of nowhere in his belly, especially after a good meal, or when looking at Shiro being the gorgeous perfection that he always is—but, seeing all Keith’s been through, he decided to overlook this as well.

This is, until the last couple of weeks. He’s felt overtired and strangely out of breath when exerting himself too much. Keith’s overly sweaty and touchy—almost like his brain is going rogue on him. He’s always been a hothead but nearly everything sets him off now, so he finds himself reconvening quite a lot in their master bathroom’s Jetta tub where the soothing pulses of water—the colder the better—helps to downgrade the pain in his back and hips. The last thing Keith wanted to do is run Shiro away just because he says something that actually sets a separation in motion even after everything they’ve overcome together.

Today in particular Keith’s back had been causing a great deal of pain—so much so that he could barely stand to put the second coat of paint on their living room walls—the pain coming in some odd cluster of surges that Keith didn’t care to keep track of trivial things, like, how many in an hour, or how long they lasted, but of course he started mentally kicking himself when the pain seemed to spread around to his stomach after his very light lunch.

Shiro had shooed him off to bed when Keith had doubled over after a rather impressive stretch when he had a minute to actually try and get some painting done, explaining that Keith didn’t have to worry about doing anything other than resting for the rest of the day, even through his boyfriend’s vehement protest as he was being escorted into their room.

Just to make sure that Keith had gotten the message, Shiro decides to allow himself a break, and he crawls into the bed with Keith, plucking off the sweating man’s shirt and then obeying with a small whine as Keith pulls Shiro close and kisses him. Their bodies brush in a hungry way, though it isn’t long before Keith breathlessly pulls out, shooting up in bed and then throwing up on the floor beside their bed.

There isn’t much, admittedly, but it sure does a number on Keith’s ego when Shiro rolls out of bed and gingerly lifts his boyfriend’s face up by the chin, and kisses his forehead to check for a fever.

“You’re warm,” Shiro reports, thumbs tracing a knowing pattern on his face, the curves and dips almost as familiar as the ones on his own.

“And you’re kneeling on vomit,” Keith says meekly, then groaning as he lays back and rolls over, checking to make sure Shiro is still looking at his so-called ruined joggers (when he hadn’t even kneeled at all) instead of following Keith’s movements as he wraps his arms around his middle and makes a small, nondescript pain noise. “It’s summer, Shiro, since when is being warm a crime?”

“You—” Shiro interjects, pausing and tacking an exasperated sigh onto his reaction before reaching out to lay a supporting hand on his boyfriend’s side only to have him roll even farther away, causing his hand to land harshly on the sweaty mattress instead. “Alright, I get the message; I’ll be in the living room if you need me…”

There’s a part of Keith that wants to call out, apologize for the crude contact and his reactions, wanting to blame everything on… _whatever_ the hell was ruining his life, but how would he explain himself, especially after the fact that he hasn’t told Shiro about any of his other symptoms?

_It’s some kind of alien parasite,_ Keith concludes as he recovers from another random stomach cramp, pushing himself to sit and give himself a quick once-over. _Maybe it’s some tumor, or an ulcer, his appendix, or a cyst? Kidney stones or maybe just gas?_

_Definitely not gas_ , he thinks as he almost shrieks in surprise as he realizes that…God, were his breasts always that…large?

He slides off the bed, shaking as he walks over to the vanity mirror—a sound escaping his lips as he pokes each one, feeling oddly heavy and…almost… _full, but of what?_

Keith decides to simply take a deep breath, massaging the area tenderly as he walks back to the bed, crawling in just before he gets another cramp. He almost wonders for a moment if they’re possibly connected, but then he rights his own wrongs with a completely different realization.

There’s something different about these cramps, he notices; they’re deep seeded, sharp, and almost _angry_. The pain pulsates through him, almost feeling as though it was trying to push him further and further into the mattress.

Keith lets out a relieved breath once he feels the familiar end to his strange cramps, only to be assaulted moments later by another one that burns through him with an almost completely revived energy source. He’s gripping the sheets, hard, grunting and near sobbing as he just simply struggles to take in a single breath so he’s able to keep conscious until the attack is over.

Realizing that he’s really in trouble, that somethings going on and he needs help, he tries to call out for Shiro, but no sound, save for a pitiful hum, comes out of his mouth before he moans again, rolling around and writhing and sweating, biting down, hard on the sheets until he’s left, a heaving, sweaty blob, when the pain suddenly dissipates.

_A bath_ , Keith thinks, remembering how taking a cool bath in the past has helped calm the pain—he thinks that if he could manage to drag himself into the bath before the next pain comes, then maybe he’ll be able to muster up the strength to call and get Shiro’s attention to go get help.

He slumps, sliding off of the bed and narrowly missing the vomit mess he had made earlier that he really should clean up, seeing as though Shiro really didn’t plan on coming back to pester him; but instead of all that he decides to stay on the ground crawl to the bathroom just in case he doesn’t make it, knowing that he wouldn’t have so far to go down if he’s already on the ground. Before he actually gets moving, he remembers his phone is on the nightstand; so Keith grunts, pulling himself up far enough to grab his phone and puts it in his mouth so he can use his hands completely to aid his body in transport, should a need arise.

Blessedly, Keith makes it to the bathtub before the pain returns, but he hasn’t yet turned on the tap before he’s in the throes, squeezing the knob and pulling as hard as he can just to give his body something to do to try and distract himself from the pain in hopes he won’t let out the loud shout that’s formed in his throat, but is growing like the pain to a suffocating mass that couldn’t flow through his mouth even if he paid it off to.

His arms are shaky and sore, his breath staggered as he finally turns the tap, watching lazily as the tub fills up while he leans against the tub wall for a tic—deciding once he’s recovered enough strength to just screw it, and he climbs into the tub still wearing whatever clothes he still had on.

Keith lets out a luxurious sigh, twinging a bit as he feels the pain flare up, but loving that the jets are providing enough pressure to his back pain that somehow the pain is more manageable, if even for a moment.

He remembers, then, that he has his phone, and so he takes his momentary lull in pain to lean over, dry his hands, and pick up his phone—dialing a number he’s almost sure he will regret later.

“Pidge,” he says, sounding oddly relieved at the sound of his friend’s familiar voice, wanting to ignore the fact that he obviously sounds very out of breath. “Any chance your offer for that full body scan is still on the table?”

“Sorry,” Katie quips on the other side of the line, the faint sound of fingers typing on a keyboard in the background for a moment before the sound stops which signals that Pidge is planning on giving Keith her undivided attention—knowing full well how serious this must have gotten if Keith is willingly coming to her for help. “The offer was contingent on it being a preventative measure, but by the way you sound I think you’ve already done enough damage that it would be pointless to subject you to this those levels of radiation…”

Keith grunts, his open hand squeezing into a fist as he’s hit with another surge of pain that almost feels like an afterthought, but was still present enough to merit a reaction. Then he lets out a deep breath and allows his head to fall back, hand lazily brushing against the surfaces of his body in case there are new developments—hand stopping and eyes growing wide as it cascades over his inflamed breast tissue.

“Can you at least try something? I’m…not sure where else to turn and something’s… _weird_. Even for the rest of the team...” His voice is kind of scratchy, defeated, as his head hangs low. “I haven’t told Shiro anything…and…it can’t be too late for me. _I won’t leave him again_ …”

“If it’s really that serious why not just go to a hospital? They’re there for a reason…”

“N-no I don’t want to do that, Pidge—I don’t trust—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Katie deadpans, taking in a deep breath, resolving to make a deal with a friend instead of fighting with him. “So why don’t you just tell me what’s going on, and we’ll see what we can do about it, okay?”

Keith grunts, leaning forward a little as he’s hit with another pain—but this time it leaves behind residual pressure in an area that he would not rather disclose to a friend who is younger and probably not as… _experienced_ in certain means that this entails. He cringes, taking a deep breath and straining like he’s trying to hold whatever wants to come out, in, before it’s even known what this thing is in the first place.

“Deal,” he says finally, eyes trailing towards the ceiling and biting his lip as he figures out mentally what to disclose and when.

Of course, seeing that this pressure isn’t going away, and is only seeming to grow, Keith ends up shakily admitting near everything up to the pressure, where Pidge stops him.

“Oh my God; _you’re pregnant_ …”

“What?” Keith shouts instantly, wincing as the sudden outburst has seemed to irritate his body’s state. “Of all the most ridiculous things you’ve ever said to me—”

“Keith, you can’t sit here and tell me that you and Shiro—”

“ _We’re not talking about this now_ ,” he cuts her off with angry urgency in his voice, breath hitching as he’s hit with a pain that the water doesn’t seem to do anything at all for. “Aggh! No, there has to be something else… There’s no way we wouldn’t notice—”

Both of them stall in their tracks as a knock is heard at the door; Keith whimpers and then whispers to Pidge that he will call her back before he hangs up and begins taking multiple deep breaths to shake off this pain before answering Shiro in his most convincing voice he can muster in the moment.

“What’s up, Shiro? I’m just… _agh_ …resting…”

“Doesn’t sound like the conversation you were having with Pidge was very restful,” Shiro says, chuckling a little as his hand brushes the back of his head awkwardly. “You were getting kind of loud—”

Sounds, pigments, light, and shape suddenly seem to blur in Keith’s being, crying out as he’s hit with a surprise pain that had generated enough momentum to produce some kind of gush underneath the water. He near shrieks, clambering to the side of the tub and crying out even as he can feel the pinkish fluid trickling down the pant legs of his already soaked shorts. He might not have been able to notice a difference if it weren’t for this mystery substance being warm and warning.

“Shiro,” Keith cries, though his voice isn’t seeming able to carry as well as he would like, so he musters all his strength and speaks as loud as he can. “Shiro I need help; something’s very wrong…”

Of course, it takes Takashi only nanoseconds to respond, prying open the door to find his boyfriend in soaked shorts, towering over pinkish bath water. He gapes for only a second, looking Keith over for anything obvious before noticing the trail of liquid pouring down from in between Keith’s legs. Quickly, he grabs a bath towel, not taking any care to notice if it’s a new towel or not, and scoops Keith up in his arms, darting for their car and somehow folding Keith to sit in the passenger side seat before sliding into the driver’s seat without any shoes, head spinning and heart breaking as he tries to figure out what in the hell is happening to Keith and why so sudden, and—

“Keith you’re going to be fine, I promise, just keep breathing, and we’ll be there soon… Wh—what happened, did you fall, or…”

Keith groans, shivering even though he’s not even cold, still sweating and cramping at an alarming rate that is now not seeming to stop for anything—he’s gripping the seat of the car and grunting, straining, moaning. He knows he needs to tell Shiro somehow, but he doesn’t know just how what with all the pressure and pain, but after he pauses, gathering up enough determination and spite, and love, he’s able to utter five pained words for his beloved:

“ _Pain…stomach…mmm Pidge…thinks…pregnant…_ ”

“Pidge thinks what?” Shiro breathes, he blinks blearily before letting out a gasp as he presses, hard, on the brakes, coming into rush hour traffic after blindly zipping through the countryside in record time, even for him. In a way he’s almost glad they had to stop so he could take a moment to…to process this. He rubs his face, eyes wide and breath shallow as things seem to occur to him and dread settles in his soul. “Keith…are we…are we really having a… _a baby_?”

Keith shakes his head, pained expression and distaste imminent even as he cries out in pain, straining and grunting as he struggles to unbutton his shorts, settling back into the seat only to cry out again.

“Wouldn’t I know if that were true?” Keith seethes, suddenly, grunting as he pushes up on the seat just for something to do. “God, Shiro, can’t we go any _faster_?”

“Honey, I can’t; traffic is backed up. If I could, I would…”

Something in Shiro’s tone of voice brings Keith comfort, but all the same kind of makes him want to tear his throat out. He’s— _God he’s a monster, He loves Shiro so much he would never hurt him…_

Keith gasps, the pressure suddenly turning into a strong, burning urge to push whatever the hell it is out of his body—he cries out and then practically hyperventilates, focusing all of his energy on not giving into this urge. He doesn’t even know how to articulate what’s coming out of his mouth, a symphony of breathing, grunts, strains, and moans—almost as if he can’t possibly formulate any coherent words even if he tried.

Keith squeezes his eyes shut, silently sending Shiro the message through a very light squeeze of the bicep, that he’s resolved to his fate, he doesn’t see himself getting out of his alive.

“Keith, stay with me. We’re going to make it in time I swear it, if anyone can it’s you. Just…keep fighting, okay? The Universe still needs you…”

Shiro nods, silently sealing the deal that if it would be quicker to just carry Keith the rest of the way to the hospital than to sit here and wait for the car to get them there, then so be it. He flicks his turn signal switch and then taps the steering wheel idly until a kind soul lets him scoot into the turning lane, down a secondary street where he finds a place to park, and then quickly rounds over to open the passenger side door while Keith continues to work through this mysterious pain.

He holds his arms up to help Keith out of the car when his boyfriend vigorously shakes his head.

“ _I can’t_ ,” Keith chokes out, arms wrapping around his middle and then his hands point down to the spot that’s causing him the most discomfort. He’s still taking shallow breaths, and he’s surprised that he’s even able to utter out what he does. “I’m not going anywhere, Shiro. Something’s…I need to lie down…”

Shiro doesn’t waste any moment, scooping his boyfriend up and putting him in the back seat, watching in restrained horror as Keith begins to try his damndest to slide off his pants. He helps Keith to achieve this feat, sliding his best into the back seat as well, and he doesn’t believe his eyes as the other man’s hands reach down where he’s looking, a sob suddenly emitting from Keith’s lips, horror in his eyes as he looks over at Shiro who is looking back at him in an astonished manner.

“ _Wh-what’s happening to me_?” Keith sputters, crying out as he pulls back his hand to reveal a slight tinge of red staining his fingers. “What is it, Shiro, what’s going on??”

Shiro’s mouth is now hanging open, and he clamps it shut forcibly before he reaches out and helps Keith to prop himself against the car door behind him before he even attempts to answer his boyfriend’s question, licking his dry lips and connecting their hands, giving Keith’s a supportive squeeze before deciding it best to just spit it out.

“Keith…I don’t expect you to believe me when I say this, but—we’re definitely having a baby _right now_. I…can see their head, they’re almost here.”

“No, no, that can’t be it, Shiro—I can’t, agh, I would have taken care of myself if I knew we were having… _oh God, what did I do_??”

“Hey,” Shiro soothes, leaning closer and placing kisses on the knuckles of his beloved’s hands, thumbs stroking comforting circles into Keith’s clammy skin as he tries to figure out what exactly to say next. “You…carried a baby, Keith. We didn’t know…somehow, but even if I didn’t know you better, I would bet any money that this baby has ten fingers and ten toes…clearly, they already have your spirit… Everything will be okay, I promise. We just have to call an ambulance—”

“No, there’s no time,” Keith says, breath flickering and eyes very serious as he grunts, the urge growing stronger with each apparent contraction that wreaks havoc on his body. “ _The baby is coming now_ , Shiro—I don’t think I hold this off any longer…”

There’s something in Keith that’s astonished as his body suddenly possesses even a shred of instinct, and the instinct is telling him to push. His head is spinning and he doesn’t believe that he’s ever felt more petrified, and more powerful than he did in the present moment.

Their eyes meet, somewhere on the boulevard of disbelief and terror—but it’s clear within seconds that they’re on the same page, and that they know what they must do.

“Okay, Keith; you’re the captain of this new mission. Nothing comes or goes unless it goes through you first, alright? Our…we’re both counting on you, and I can’t think of anyone better to put our trust in than you. Let’s meet our baby...”

* * *

Shiro gave in and called dispatch after Keith’s first real push. His eyes nearly felt as if they were going to pop out of his head like he just now noticed that he truly was in the midst of delivering his own child— _presumably, God could he even entertain this thought, though_??—and that he had absolutely no idea what he’s doing whatsoever.

Thankfully, the 9-1-1 dispatch personnel was a young-sounding woman, who introduced herself as Debbie after Shiro nearly broke down at the sound of her voice—who was not only informed but knowledgeable after having not one, but three kids naturally, and was more than willing to help the two terrified parents-to-be that were blindsided by the very prominent, to-be partition of the title.

Obviously, Keith, who was very much in pain, and very much, crowning—did nothing to hold back his shouts of exertion and frustration and fear, so it makes sense that they had accumulated a bit of a crowd around them, which thankfully included a bunch of nice people who wanted to offer their own support. One had even offered to help prop Keith up while he pushed but Keith told them what-for with a literal growl of disconcert even before they had touched the door handle. The rules were clear: _stay as quiet as possible_ (unless you’re Keith), _only person allowed in the car was Shiro, and keep your damn opinions to yourself, for the love of God_ , or so Keith had said.

“Okay, God, Keith that’s perfect, absolutely perfect,” Shiro croons, wanting nothing more than to be on the other side so he could be supporting Keith through this like the normal expectant parents, but alas he must stay at the business end, his hands clad with sterile gloves generously donated by a nearby donut shop, and hands quite literally supporting the head of a human being while a wonderful bystander holds the phone so they can hear proper instruction by the professional. “The head is out, what do we do next?”

“Check to make sure the umbilical cord isn’t wrapped around the baby’s neck; Keith, sit tight and don’t do any more pushing until we know for sure, okay?”

Keith grunts in response, straining and panting as he tries his damndest to process what on earth is going on right now; though, it’s reasonably difficult to achieve this with all of the pain and pressure he’s feeling.

“Everything looks good,” Shiro reports, practically bouncing with nerves but also with an overall feeling of awe and pride all at once. “What do we do next?”

As Debbie talks Keith strains, squeezing his eyes shut, and grimacing as he feels Shiro literally turn the baby inside of him, and then pulling a supposed shoulder out before he officially tunes back in as soon as Shiro instructs him to push again.

Shiro visibly tenses, eyes locked on exactly where he’s supposed to be focused on—but then he looks up at Keith when he notices that nothing’s happening. Keith is just shaking his head, covering his eyes with his hands, and body wracking with sobs that are greatly uncharacteristic of the former paladin, which obviously causes Shiro to be rightly alarmed.

“Keith, baby… _um_ …everything is fine. You don’t need to cry; no one’s upset with you…right guys?” He looks around, silently begging these perfect strangers to agree with him to support the claim. “It’s almost over, you’re so close; I just need another good push, okay? Do you think you can help me out with that?”

“N-no, Shiro, don’t you see? _I can’t do this._ I didn’t even know the baby existed and now…what if something’s wrong? It’ll be all my fault! They should just stay in there where they will be safe…I…I’m so sorry, Shiro, I let you down…”

Keith’s voice is surprisingly soft, wet and clearly pained in a way that would be difficult for just anyone to pick up enough pieces to finish the job—Shiro lets out a hot, pained breath, eyes squeezing shut to ward off the moisture that threatens to decimate his resolve. He has to physically remind himself to not squeeze his hands that are quite literally still holding the baby upright while the rest of them is yet to be delivered.

Luckily, _Shiro isn’t just anybody_.

“Keith…no matter what…you know me. You know…us. I’m never going to give up on you, and you won’t give up on me—and this…this baby? They’re both you and me; and the Keith I know… _and love_ …wouldn’t give up on them, either. Now would he?”

“ _I’m so scared, Shiro_ ,” comes Keith’s voice in a soft way that Takashi has ever heard and will never forget. It doesn’t sound like him at all, and that’s how Shiro knows that it’s real, and it’s a feeling that he knows well.

“I know…me too,” he admits, trying, hard to mimic the softness that was in Keith’s voice. “But I’m with you Keith, until the end, no matter what happens—and we’ll take each and every step together even once we’re back on our feet. Because that’s us, and we’re meant to be here and we’re meant to do it together. That’s the only way I will accept it; all _three_ of us against the world.”

Then Shiro flashes one of his signature smiles and Keith matches it with his own quivering one, before he grimaces like he’s only now just come back to his own body—the contraction waving almost as if it’s prodding Keith, challenging him to do the right thing.

And so, he does; he pushes until the teeth on his lips collect blood, until his fingernails almost leave permanent marks on the leather inside of Shiro’s car.

He pushes until he finally notices the collective gasps, before Keith’s breath is taken away by the smallest human he had ever met as Shiro holds the baby close, emotion collecting in his voice and his eyes as he looks them over—though the visage wears quickly as panic sets in, and Keith wouldn’t have even heard that it was wrong of if weren’t for the quiet voices around his boyfriend, _that babies are supposed to cry when they’re born, that the baby is small, and_ , in the words of one particular know-it-all, _that they doubt the baby will even make it at all_.

Keith literally feels his heart breaking into a million different pieces, debris stabbing every organ, every crevasse in its wake. He knows he’s breathing fast but he doesn’t feel like he’s getting any air in. It’s all he can do to not cry out in absolute devastation as he watches Shiro turn the baby on their belly as he rubs their back, stimulating them lightly in ways that’s supposed to encourage them to start breathing.

The silence is deafening but this simply makes the lack of silence even more amazing, the infant letting out a teeny cough before erupting into loud reedy wails, curled fingers and toes shaking with exertion as Keith gasps when Shiro lays the baby on his chest. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to do, exactly, rather than gape at the baby, and then glance, teary-eyed at the man who not only delivered the baby, but resuscitated them as well. His shaky, clammy hands come to brush against the cheek of the baby laying in his arms, and somehow this seems like the confirmation he needs—eyes going blurry as sobs escalate out of his lips as he just watches their baby exist, and breathe in the most perfect of ways.

It’s quickly everything that he never knew that he needed, emotion welling as Keith is shocked at the notion that he quickly loves this child if not more, but definitely as much, as the man who is currently watching both of them, pausing to exchange pleasantries as the strangers begin to make their leaves as the couple waits for the ambulance to get there so Keith and baby can be looked over properly, vitals taken and all that.

“I know that sneak attacks are usually a great battle strategy,” Keith whispers to the child, a smile stretching his lips as they respond by yawning of all things. He chuckles, finger poking at the infant’s hand and then near gasping at the reflex when tiny fingers enclose around one of their parents singular fingers. “But it might be good to give us a little more warning next time, hm? _Our old hearts can only take so much_ …”

“ _Like father like son_ ,” Shiro chimes in, his voice laced with affection as he leans over, his own hand splaying over the child’s so-very tiny backside. “After a certain number of jump-scares you kind of stop questioning the gray hair…”

Keith starts for a moment, looking down and only for the first time thinking about things like gender and names, emotion collecting in his chest before he wipes at his eyes and then accepts the smooch Shiro offers him, humming while he tries to think of the right thing to say.

“ _At least since he’s a boy we won’t feel pressured into naming him after Pidge, huh_?”

Shiro chuckles. “I guess not; maybe she’ll call dibs on the second one…”

“Ha-ha; very funny,” Keith deadpans.

“Yeah, I guess it’s a little soon to be thinking about more…”

“ _Dibs on being the one on the other side next time…_ ”

“Fair enough,” Shiro chuckles, raising his head when he hears doors closing, moving to stand when he realizes that it’s the ambulance that pops the little bubble of their very first family meeting, wide open. “We’ll talk logistics, later…”

Keith chuckles, hand lazily rubbing his baby’s back when he seems to gurgle in reply.

“What do you think?” He asks his son, in a teasing tone as he already knows the answer. “I think we’ll keep him. Sound good to you?”

* * *

Keith honestly can’t keep his eyes off of him.

Thick, black locks sticking out of the bottom of a sky-blue cap that the hospital generously donated to their cause, fluttering eyelashes and baby blues that he had no idea all newborns were born with. He definitely had Shiro’s nose, or… _is that his_? Either way, it is understandable that Keith would find it difficult to fathom the presence of a person who began the day without literally anyone realizing their existence—but that’s not at all to say that he’s disappointed. No, he doesn’t think he’s ever been more proud of anything he’s ever done in his life, but this probably has more to do with the fact that he’s half Shiro too, and Keith hopes that from every day on that their son will be more and more like Takashi than the day before, and that he’ll grow up knowing just how amazing of a man his father is. Keith vows that he will make this his mission, even when he’s sitting in a hospital bed with their baby in his little bassinet, sleeping off the excitement for the day after he had been so rudely whisked away to have a myriad of medical tests done to assess how his body is sustaining its new role, and exactly what the staff could do to ensure that the transition from here on out is a smooth one.

Keith, himself, apparently only sustained minor tearing, and the placenta had been delivered safely when they were en-route to the hospital in the ambulance. He remembers the paramedics astonishment at the makeshift job Shiro had done to clamp the umbilical cord—a yellow twist tie that was pulled so tight the paramedics joked about it belonging in a museum for impressive knots through history—but Keith couldn’t remember hardly any details as he laid there, cradling his baby with a seemingly permanent expression of bewilderment and awe on his face. In fact, if anyone asked him right now, Keith swears he couldn’t give any more details other than pain, and then, _poof_! A baby.

Once at the hospital, the baby was examined and then brought right back to his parents while the adults explained their findings. They suspect that the baby was born around thirty-five, or thirty-six weeks of gestation—he’s under six pounds by a mere three ounces, and despite everything, he’s in astonishingly good shape. For precaution, they would like to keep a pulse oximeter on him just in case, as it is evident that he’s working a little harder than they would like to keep getting enough air; but the doctors are confident that once he starts growing and gaining weight, that this should resolve itself in no time. It’s a small enough monitor, a teeny wrap that goes around the baby’s foot that has a sensor, fastened with a sock and then covered by a swaddle so the infant isn’t likely to kick it off before it’s time to be rid of it—but just the knowledge that it’s there, the small beep that it emits, tracking the baby’s breath and pulse, has Keith sitting there with a pit for a stomach and a heart full of sadness and despair.

Once things had settled down a bit, Shiro, understandably, left a tic to go home to grab some things for them while they’re away, and to also make bewildered calls to friends and family, practically begging them to find whatever baby essentials they could get their hands on, that will hold them over until they can acquire things themselves, while Keith tried his best to rest—and so he’s sure no one could blame him for feeling a tad restless even as his body is crying out in pain after giving birth of all things.

It didn’t take long for congratulatory— _and in Pidge’s case, a bit smug_ —and understandably bewildered texts to blow up his phone. One from Hunk, telling him that he needs to text the baby’s name as soon as they know for reasons that _may or may not have to do with birthday cake_ , a few cordial greetings from Allura, and then several all caps texts from Lance who claimed that Keith _stole their thunder_ , having a baby before he and Allura could, just because they were the first to get married, and therefore, the ones who should rightfully bear the world’s first “ _Voltron Kitten_ ”, in his words.

The texts offered some welcome distraction, but the major relief that washes over Keith is when there’s a knock on the door that introduces Shiro back into the picture. With him is an impressive bouquet of flowers of all colors and sizes—Keith is already sputtering even before Takashi gets the moment to hand them over to his boyfriend.

“ _Special delivery_ ,” Shiro jests, leaning in and humming as Keith pulls Shiro into a deep kiss, skin tingling as Keith cups his boyfriend’s face and then proceeds to pull Shiro to sit on the bed right beside him. Shiro gently places the bouquet on the tray table, and then obliges, humming as Keith connects their lips again, and again until Shiro clears his throat and places his hand over his boyfriend’s chest to silently ask him to take it easy again. “Any new developments to report?”

Keith shrugs, trying his best to appear noncommittal even though his smile wears it out in the end. “The nurses say he’s an excellent eater…”

“How are you? Are you in pain at all?”

“No more than you’d expect,” Keith muses, seeming to wave that topic of discussion away in favor of another avenue. “What’re the flowers for???”

Shiro leans in, breath hot on Keith’s ear as he speaks softly. “ _For you_.”

_“…but…I didn’t do anything…”_

Shiro’s eyes widen, but he still easily slides off of the bed and then gingerly picks up the baby, rocking him gently in his arms until Shiro can place him into Keith’s extremely able hands.

“I think we both beg to differ, Keith.”

Keith blinks, awe settling into his being as he watches the eyes of his son slit open, seemingly from the sounds of their voices. His lips quiver, but he wraps his arms around, gingerly lifting the baby up so he can place a kiss on his son’s forehead. Then he sighs, pulling his feet up to make an incline of legs for the baby to rest on as he tries to figure out his next move.

“S-Shiro, I’m so sorry…” Except Keith isn’t looking at Shiro, he’s looking at the foot of his bed, toes curling into the mattress as his heart continues to break all over again. “I should have told you sooner…but…I promise you I didn’t think at the time that it was really something to be concerned about. I had…other… _symptoms_ , but I didn’t want to bother you if it wasn’t serious—”

“But I don’t care about that now,” Takashi croons, using a couple of fingers to direct Keith’s gaze to meet his own. “Look at what you did, Keith. He’s…perfect…and I… _that’s all you_. You did this, and I think you should he proud of yourself.”

“No, that’s wrong,” Keith says, shaking his head decisively, cringing as he places the baby on the mattress, and then oh-so-carefully slides off to a standing position, holding his hand out to steady himself, before he scoops up the baby and places him back in the bassinet. Then he turns around to face Shiro, reaching out to frame Takashi’s face with his hands before he pulls his boyfriend into a deep kiss. He doesn’t say anything else until the kiss had deepened and Keith finds that Shiro had lifted him by the thighs back onto the mattress. Keith pulls out breathlessly. “ _I couldn’t have done any of this without you_ …”

“Baby, you’ll never ever have to, I promise,” Shiro says, voice laced with affection as he stands, breathless himself, just inches away from his boyfriend’s lips. He licks his lips, thumbs tracing the familiar lines of Keith’s face, pulling him in for a chaste kiss before he pulls out and forces himself to pull away, helping his beloved to get resituated in bed before he moves to sit on the chair at Keith’s bedside, instead of right next to him in bed with all of these distractions. “So, have you thought of any names yet?”

“I have, actually,” Keith confirms, electing to leave out how it was merely a coping mechanism of a distraction for when their baby was being examined. He grabs his phone and then leans over to show Shiro what is on the screen.

“Kenta?” Shiro muses, albeit breathlessly.

“I wanted something that would be an even mixture of the both of us. Kenta fits right in with Shirogane… _starts with K_ …” Keith explains, clearing his throat a little as the color rises in his cheeks. “It means healthy, strong. It also means big… _thick_ , in their words, but I figured that it would be something he could grow into…”

“I love it,” Shiro breathes, seemingly without a moment’s hesitation—his hand coming to connect with Keith’s free hand, leaning over to press his lips into Keith’s cheek. “I guess that means his middle name starts with a T, if I’m following you correctly.”

“Exactly…if you want. I was kind of hoping you could come up with it…” Keith explains, deciding to not tack on the truth that he wants as much of Shiro in this as humanly possible, and Kenta, which is of Japanese origin, seems to fit this bill perfectly.

“Oh, okay,” Shiro says, sounding a bit surprised, though it’s only for a moment before his hand is awkwardly scratching the back of his head. “I have no idea why, but; the name _Tate_ has been floating around in my head for a few hours…what do you think of that?”

“Kenta Tate Shirogane?” Keith says, glancing over at the sleeping child before looking back at his boyfriend with almost a little too much excitement for his own taste. “Shiro…it’s perfect; I really like that. Unless…you want them switched?”

“No,” Shiro says decisively, his arm slinking around Keith’s shoulder as he plants a kiss on his boyfriend’s temple, sliding easily back into bed with his lover. “His name’s definitely always meant to be Kenta, that much is clear.”

“God… _look at what we made_?” Keith inquires, his tone in that soft manner that had already shaken Takashi’s world once today. His eyes are focused on the bassinet, and he leans so his head is resting in the crook of Shiro’s neck, his breath airy and timid, almost as if it’s afraid of breaking this moment. “He’s so little…”

“… _he definitely has your nose_ ,” Shiro grins, chuckling a little as they continue to look over at their latest and greatest muse, heads resting on one another while they acquaint with their surprise situation. “Dodged a bullet there…”

“No, he needs to have your nose because he has your chin…”

“ _I had no idea my nose and chin were a packaged dea_ l…”

“Shiro…don’t make me laugh; it hurts…”

“Oh, sorry! But, seriously, he definitely has your nose…”

“As long as he doesn’t get my jawline…”

“Well I don’t want him to have mine! Keith, he can’t grow up looking like a small…child-man, or whatever…”

“He won’t, I promise. He came from a great gene pool, after all…”

There’s a small pause where the room is full of old breaths and new ones, heart beats and unconditional love that is almost too palpable to bear.

“I love you, Keith,” Shiro drawls, kissing Keith on the head and then humming as he feels his boyfriend’s sleepy arms wrap around him. Keith yawns.

“I love you too, Shiro.”

“Don’t worry,” Shiro breathes as he feels Keith’s body go limp with sleep against him. “We love you too, Kenta; and we always will. Happy Birthday; we’re so glad you’re here with us…”

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to follow me on tumblr: www.l1nkp1t.tumblr.com!!


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